


Hooked On A Feeling

by neverminetohold



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: All Just A Dream?, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Dark, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Friendship, Het and Slash, Joseph Has A Crush, Loss of Identity, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Mind Rape, Missing Scene, Non-Graphic Smut, Unrequited Love, What is real?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:33:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5461787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverminetohold/pseuds/neverminetohold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian's way out of STEM's hell was paved with good intentions...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hooked On A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imiriad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imiriad/gifts).



The sky darkened with discolored clouds. Once white they were now black, fringed with yellow, as if swollen to the point of bursting; eroded by gangrene. The patter of rain soon followed, each droplet a rich vermilion. The breeze, stale and oppressive, carried the putrid stench of decomposing bodies, a haze of faeces, sulfur and cooked cabbage, all underlined by a musty, almost flowery scent.  
  
It was one familiar thing amidst this insanity, the fight-or-flight from creatures with glowing eyes, wrapped in razor barbed wire down to the quick, marrow and brain, yet eerily silent and relentless in their murderous pursuit of him.  
  
It was far from comforting, but at least he had smelled the same before, at crime scenes.  
  
Sebastian pulled the piece of cloth he had found up to cover his mouth and nose, and tried to keep his breathing shallow despite the exertion. He picked his way through the ruins of Krimson City, the twisted, torn open husk of it, following the trail of... something important.  
  
Yes. He had a job to do.  
  
  
_Have you ever felt abandoned by the ones you trusted?_  
  
  
Sebastian woke with the heavy head and sore body that were the telltale signs of a wild night spent with Myra.  
  
Tenacious and no-nonsense could make for a marvelous time between the sheets if a guy was willing to simply lie back and take it. All the more with Myra straddling him, her hair loose and curling its way over her shoulders, framing her breasts; wearing just enough fabric to highlight her beauty and nakedness in all the right ways. Granted, he had been skeptical at first, more used to taking charge in the bedroom, but Myra...  
  
Well, if anyone ever happened to ask them, his past relationships would agree that it took a special kind of woman to get Sebastian Castellanos to kneel at their feet and propose, flowers, diamond, romantic candlelight dinner, and all. He had stammered a little, stumbled over the words, nearly dropped the ring into her flute of champagne.  
  
Sebastian smiled to himself and opened his eyes to squint at the ceiling. The sight of a water stain greeted him, the one that Myra wanted him to paint over, unconvinced by his claim that it added personality and charm to their single-family prefab. He reached out along the mattress, but knew already that her half of the bed was empty and had lost the warmth of her curled up body.  
  
The well-worn furniture along the walls had a hazy quality to it and the sunlight making it past the curtains seemed suddenly too stark. Pressure began to build behind his eyes and temples, promising a headache.  
  
Sebastian rolled over with a groan, hugging the pillow and burying his face in the soft microfiber. He scratched his belly where dried semen had begun to flake and itch, feeling compelled to take a quick inventory.  
  
Fine and thin lines burned like fire along his back, on his shoulders, where Myra had dug in her manicured nails with a little too much enthusiasm, to say nothing about how her probing, clever fingers were still a literal pain in his ass. The good kind to be sure, but he better go ahead and get some more lube for next time.  
  
I wonder how Myra would react to a strap-on as a gift for our first anniversary?  
  
Something sizzled in the kitchen below stairs and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted into the room. It must have been a new brand, because the scent was a little too sweet... Or perhaps Myra was making pancakes to go with the bacon.  
  
Enticed out of bed by the promise of food, Sebastian decided that he liked lazy and peaceful Sundays. Very much.  
  
  
_Do you wish to remain in the dark about information that will undoubtedly disturb you?_  
  
  
The other KCPD detective, Joseph Oda, had proven himself a valuable asset. He constantly called and searched, the unrequited, intense feelings he harbored for his partner providing him with the perfect impetus to act. The wavelength he emitted within the STEM was a rippling, quick throb, not unlike the failing of a damaged heart - and Castellanos answered. Always, no matter how precarious his own situation at any given time.  
  
Delicious, this crippling pain of a bond, formed between social animals. Their resonance reached a level just short of perfection when exposed to external stimuli, his Haunted and traps, and it was only amplified by repeated enforced separation and reunion.  
  
Oda was the backdoor that led straight into Castellanos mind, a barrier peeled away and forced open with insulting ease, not unlike the ribcage when it was pulled from a corpse during dissection. Naturally, no blood spilled forth, but memories.  
  
Those, Ruvik was eager to work with, to find the old wounds and scar tissue that made up every human soul, lent it a unique quality, to worm his way inside like cancer, to fester, corrupt, mark, and consume.  
  
He had special plans for Detective Castellanos. Sebastian. _Seb_.  
  
  
_Are there sins you are ashamed of?_  
  
  
"Sebastian."  
  
He knew that tone, had waited for it. Instantly, he dropped the book with popular names for girls on the coffee table and shifted closer, until he could rest his palm on the swell of her middle. He felt it, a strong kick as the baby turned and settled.  
  
Myra laughed, a soft and breathy noise. She had not developed any strange appetites, not suffered from morning sickness either, but her back had been killing her lately.  
  
"Look at you turning to mush, Detective Daddy. She will have you wrapped round her little finger in no time."  
  
"So?" Sebastian leaned down to kiss her belly button. "I know just the woman to keep us both in line."  
  
"Mhm," Myra hummed, but her expression and mood changed suddenly. "Sebastian, I need you to promise me something."  
  
"Anything."  
  
"We both know what it's like out there," Myra said, one finger tracing the scar below her shoulder, a sunken starburst of damaged tissue. The gunshot from a fleeing suspect that had nearly killed her. "Swear that you'll protect her."  
  
He had already given his word, in the privacy of the journal he kept, but Myra wanted to hear it out loud, her eyes not scared but intense. Sebastian opened his mouth but choked on something salty, his heart suddenly beating at a frantic pace.  
  
"I will," he managed, coughing.  
  
Myra smiled at him, rolling her eyes in fond exasperation, then patted him on the back. For a moment, Sebastian thought he saw her wearing a prim, dark costume and gloves, looming over him while he soaked in milky water...  
  
  
_Do your past secrets haunt you? Do you wish to tell them, but something holds you back?_  
  
  
Her skimpy dress was a gaudy shade caught between neon pink and crimson, full of holes in strategic places, with dirt clinging to her fishnet pantyhose right over knees. Her enthusiasm, head bobbing with slurping noises, was as fake as her lashes and throaty moans. Her pupils were blown wide, the craving a tremor in her pale hands.  
  
Another whore nobody would miss. Standing hidden in the shadows, just another faceless stranger, the flash of folded dollar bills was enough to lure her in; hook, line, sinker.  
  
She would be very useful, a ripe and rotten fruit of mortal sins. Perfect when wielded against those that prided themselves on being strong, the honorable and pragmatic, those that deemed they were above reproach. Besides, no one was truly free of addiction. One way or another, each human being felt hollow, willing to grasp at straws to fill that empty space, to cling to a crutch: money, fame, drugs, sex, alcohol, love.  
  
Even he was not arrogant enough to claim that he was the sole exception, not when his every waking thought was dedicated to Laura or occupied with revenge. So Ruvik tilted his head back against the graffiti-covered wall, enjoying the empty pleasure.  
  
He had paid for it and the girl would be dead soon. At least, in this world.  
  
  
_Can you discern between Evil and Good?_  
  
  
"...protect him," Ruvik whispered, and laughed when his only answer was a low groan.  
  
What a pretty picture he made, the oh so stoic and moral detective, seated on Ruvik's cock, panting open-mouthed as he lifted his body and dropped down again, using the back of the chair for leverage. Muscles clenched and quivered, hot and eager, meeting the rhythm, the angle, that nailed his prostrate. Flushed, hair slick with sweat and skin bruised, his own dick slapped against his cum-smeared stomach. Chasing the ecstasy that had ripped through him so often he must have lost count.  
  
Within STEM, no limits existed, and the ego was reduced to something frail and fluid, that could slip right through your fingers. He was coaxed by three linked minds, drowning in the drug cocktail of memories, love, pleasure, uncaring for anything, except...  
  
  
_Are you sure enough in yourself? Sure enough to face the responsibilities of your actions?_  
  
  
... the white canvas of a straightjacket, as Leslie scurried around ahead of him, in the distance, wringing his hands, muttering to himself.  
  
Yes. Sebastian had a job to do: bring him the boy.  
  
  
_They're not going anywhere. No one can._  
  
  
(No one is.)


End file.
